


axis

by thunderylee



Category: NewS (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationship, Canon Universe, M/M, mentions of prostitution and threesomes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-26
Updated: 2008-10-26
Packaged: 2019-02-03 18:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: To Yamapi, his group is still eight.





	axis

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Yamapi’s been to New York before, but it’s a lot different without his bandmates, bodyguards, and someone to translate for him. He tries not to think about how much trouble he’s going to be in when the aforementioned people find out he’s gone, just hoping that American fangirls aren’t as crazy as Korean ones.

Nobody seems to recognize him as he hustles along the streets with others, mixed in with people of all races, ages, and stereotypes. He supposes that in the busy city, everyone is preoccupied with their own business and not really sparing a thought as to who’s walking next to them, where they’re from or what their story is.

Yamapi thinks that’s a sad existence, but who is he to judge?

The paper with the address on it is clutched tightly in his hand, the numbers and foreign letters burned into his memory as he approaches a college campus amidst the high-rise buildings and parking garages.

He starts to climb the steps, gathering his courage for what lays ahead, but stops short at the sound of a voice that could never be mistaken. No matter what language it’s speaking, no matter how much of his Japanese accent is gone, Yamapi will recognize this voice forever as the gangly fifteen-year-old with a mullet who looked up at him with big, impressionable eyes and said, “I will do my best, Leader!”

That was seven years ago, and since then he’s grown into his tall frame and hardened his features. A man, no longer a child, his hair no longer professionally straightened and left to its wild nature. He stands confidently on the next corner, leaning into the window of an expensive-looking car (the _passenger_ window, Yamapi notes, because everything is backwards here) and crossing his ankles comfortably. His jeans fit him rather nicely, along with a tight mesh top that would earn him a label if it was anywhere but NYC.

He looks like he does this every day, smiling in a way that Yamapi hasn’t yet seen on his adult face. It’s flirty, promising. Yamapi’s nerves immediately surge at the thought of his youngest bandmate soliciting, regardless of the reasons behind it. Maybe it’s how he earns his tuition; maybe he got in bad with some American mobsters. Either way, he should have come to Yamapi if he needed money, because regardless of active status, a leader never stops being a leader.

“Stop!” he yells, the ‘yamenasai’ ripping from his lungs affecting no one but his intended target, who freezes briefly before flashing his companion a million-watt smile and patting the top of the car as they drive away.

His eyes immediately dart in Yamapi’s direction, his face falling in shock as his suspicions are presumably confirmed and he can do nothing but stand there with his jaw slightly dropped.

Yamapi runs across the street, getting nearly hit by several cars and sworn at in a couple languages, and doubles over when he finally reaches his estranged friend, clutching onto his knees to catch his breath.

“I don’t care what trouble you’re in,” he says breathlessly, looking up to meet confused eyes. “You never have to resort to this.”

“Resort to what?” Kusano replies, his Japanese as natural as ever. “I was trying to get those guys to come to a party tonight.” He pulls a stack of flyers from his back pocket, waving them in front of Yamapi’s face like an alibi.

“Oh,” Yamapi says slowly, his hands shoving into his pockets.

“Oh my god,” Kusano exclaims in English. “Did you think I was _whoring_?”

He looks torn between laughing at Yamapi and hugging him, eventually opting for falling against the nearby wall and covering his bright red face. Yamapi watches him silently, sees his chest heaving with compressed laughter and feels very embarrassed.

“These guys in my dorm,” Kusano says slowly, lowering his hands to meet Yamapi’s eyes. “They’re a little unfortunate looking, so they send me to get people to come to their parties.” He gestures to his clothing. “The girls seem to think that all Asian people dress like this.”

“Whatever would give them that idea,” Yamapi says dryly, thinking of how Tegoshi has that same shirt in his wardrobe.

Kusano stares at him. “What are you _doing_ here?”

“I missed you,” Yamapi says straightforwardly. “Uchi I can still see in the magazines, but I can’t check up on you.”

“‘Check up’,” Kusano repeats, looking amused. “Sometimes I think you care about me more than my own parents do.”

“I’m not leading you anymore,” Yamapi admits, “but I still feel responsible for what happens to you.”

Kusano smiles sympathetically and grabs for Yamapi’s wrist. “Come with me, I have something to show you.”

Yamapi allows himself to be dragged onto the campus and up into the dorms, where he sees Kusano’s room postered with human anatomy charts. “That’s about as naked as they get,” Yamapi jokes, his eyes scanning the piles of books next to the laptop on one of the desks.

His attention is demanded as Kusano grabs his chin and stands before him. “I’m pre-med, Yamapi. I start medical school next year. I’m going to be a _doctor_.” He looks like it surprises him as well, and he gives a short laugh. “Imagine how amused I was when I heard about Code Blue.”

“Oh, did you watch it?” Yamapi asks, the only thing he can think of to say in his daze.

“A bunch of us did,” Kusano tells him. “With subtitles, anyway. My whole department seems to be of the opinion that you should have had a threesome with Gakki and Toda Erika in that helicopter.”

Yamapi laughs out loud, falling back onto somebody’s bed from the force of his amusement. It appears to be Kusano’s by the way Kusano plops down next to him, leaning back to lay halfway on Yamapi’s chest. Yamapi’s hand automatically rakes through his hair, taking care not to get tangled in the natural curls.

“You never stopped leading me,” Kusano says quietly, turning to drape an arm across Yamapi’s waist and utilize his shoulder as a pillow. “No matter what I’m doing, I hear your voice in the back of my head telling me to do my best.”

Yamapi’s heart feels very big, and he knows he made the right decision in coming here. He holds the grown Kusano close to him, pressing his nose into the wild hair to keep his composure. “Come home soon, okay?”

“I will,” Kusano says. “When I become an adult whom you can be proud of.”

“You already are,” Yamapi tells him, and he can feel Kusano’s heart swelling as well.


End file.
